


There's a possibility

by Tch0upi



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode: s05e10 The Kindness of Strangers, Hurt!Merlin, M/M, Merthur but could be seen as friendship, Protective!Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 19:06:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5386997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tch0upi/pseuds/Tch0upi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He drank poison on his own free will. He fought sorcerers and bandits. He fought beasts. He fought dragons. Protected Arthur from everything and everyone. He defeated Nimueh, suffered at Morgana's hand, at Uther's hand, at Morgause's hand. He was bitten by a serket, touched by the dorocha. Everything he had even done, he had done for Arthur."</p><p>Arthur joined the knights on episode 10 of series 5, as they chased after Finna. They hid from Morgana and then found the abandoned castle in which Merlin was left bleeding out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's a possibility

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write about this episode for a long time, especially the scene where Merlin is on the rooftop, bleeding and suffering. I always imagined he would think about Arthur at that moment, as he always is anyway. I suggest you listen to the song "Possibility" by Lykke Li, which I listened to while writing. This fic is strongly inspired from this beautiful song!  
> Also, this is not my birth language, so be nice if there's some mistakes. :)  
> Enjoy!

_There's a possibility, there's a possibility_

_All that I have was all I'm gon' get..._

Everything Merlin did, he did for Arthur. He drank poison on his own free will. He fought sorcerers and bandits. He fought beasts. He fought dragons. Protected Arthur from everything and everyone. He defeated Nimueh, suffered at Morgana's hand, at Uther's hand, at Morgause's hand. He was bitten by a serket, touched by the dorocha. Everything he had even done, he had done for Arthur.

And as he crawled his way up to the rooftop where Finna had sent him, he thought about him. About his king. About Arthur. Merlin was bleeding out, he was too weak to stand anymore. He was deathly pale, breathing slow and hard. His vision was blurry. But Merlin kept going. Finna had just sacrificed herself so that he would survive and go save the king from Mordred. He had to make it. He had to survive, even thought right now the wound was deep and painful. He could feel the blood running down his stomach and even lower on his legs.

He felt weak, but he couldn't stop. Not with this image in his mind. Mixed with Finna's voice was the scene he had witness that fateful day, when they were on their way to Ismere. That man he had met, and that puddle of water, in which he had seen a thing he wished he would never see. Arthur... dying. Dying at the hand of Mordred.

 _"Do not trust the druid boy!"_ Her face was desperate as she had said this to him, and he could almost hear again the warning of the dragon, many years ago. He too had said the boy shouldn't be trusted, but at the time, Mordred was a little child and Merlin couldn't imagine him being a real threat. He had thought the boy would change over the years and that this prophecy would never come to pass. But now... now he was afraid. He was so scared.

He fell on his back, and gasped for air. _"Do not trust the druid boy!"_ he could hear again, and again, Finna's voice grave in his mind. He still saw her eyes, looking deep into him, making sure he'd heard everything she'd said to him. Of course he did. He knew he shouldn't trust Mordred, and he didn't trust him.

Merlin turned his head to look at the sky.

_There's a possibility, there's a possibility_

_All I'm gon' get is gone with your step..._

He couldn't stop thinking about Arthur. It was like a poison inside him. It was growing up in his body and soul, and scaring him to death. He couldn't imagine losing Arthur. He could not. But how could he protect him in this state?

_So tell me when my heart stop_

He was too weak. He held a hand tightly against his wound, but he had already lost too much blood.

His eyes slowly closed.

He had drank the poison, fought evil sorcerers, bandits, creatures, dragons, he even fought his own friend Morgana, when she had turned her back on them. He had been bitten by a serket, touched by a dorocha, beaten up and used by Morgana. And he was shot by an arrow.

Again for Arthur. He would go to hell and back for him. He would do everything, everything...

_Tell me when you hear my silence..._

Merlin knew he could and would literally do anything for him. He would fight another war against Morgana with his bare hands, he would face the dorocha again, he would stand before him against deadly creatures and he certainly would drink poison again.

But Arthur's death... He wouldn't take it. He wouldn't be able to survive this.

Arthur. He needed him so much. And it was so clear, so real... Mordred's face as he went through him with his sword. Merlin had to live to this day to stop it. To step forward and take the blow for Arthur. Fight Mordred. He would... he would if he could just survive this bloody wound...

Maybe he was the greatest sorcerer to ever exist.

If Arthur disappeared, the whole meaning of the world would disappear with him.

If Arthur were to fall, Merlin would fall with him.

_There's a possibility I wouldn't know._

***

 

"Morgana's gone! It's clear!"

The king was anxious. Yesterday, they'd encountered Merlin. He had told them he was gathering herbs for Gaius, and so Arthur ordered him to stick by, seeing as there was a dangerous sorceress in the area. But at morning, Merlin was gone. Mordred had claimed he had escorted Merlin to a safe passage back to Camelot but Arthur doubted it, though he didn't try to shake the truth out of the boy. He knew Merlin couldn't have gone far.

But nothing was going well. All day long, they'd been tracked by Morgana. She wasn't tracking them, exactly, but she was certainly furious and desperate for whatever she was following with such fury and madness. Arthur and the knights hid for the most part of the day, but Arthur couldn't shake off this bad feeling he had. The sorceress had left behind her some men, dead, without any wounds on them — which was normal since she had magic — but there was a trail of blood behind her and two lines of feet, as if she wasn't alone. And to add to that, they hadn't find Merlin at all. Arthur doubted Merlin would have been back to Camelot on his own. When did his servant ever left him behind? Arthur knew Merlin would come along, even if this was dangerous. Merlin was always by his side.

So he was anxious. And he had a bad feeling about this.

It was late when they could make sure the castle where they'd see Morgana haunt the sorceress was clear and left and empty of the high priestess. Arthur and the knights had heard her shout at her men to "burn the body" and bring the horses, and just like that, she had fled into the night.

"Come on!" said Arthur.

"Where are you going?" Gwaine asked.

"There's someone in there. Someone that's been following the sorceress."

The knights looked at each other, but obeyed nonetheless. The king entered the castle and made his way up. First floor, then second floor.

"It's creepy," Percival said. "Knowing she was there, and probably murdered the woman."

"You think Morgana was after the sorceress?" Gwaine asked.

"She's been haunting her down all day with madness in her eyes. We could easily sneak up on her and she didn't even notice. Morgana's clever. She was obsessed with the woman. Or else she would've figured she was being followed by us," Percival explained.

"Good point." Gwaine muttered. Then, he lifted his head up. "But why the hell would she haunt down one of her own?"

Percival didn't know what to answer to that, and so silence took its rights. Arthur walked around slowly in the room. As he leaned down near the stairs, he noticed blood on the floor.

"This..." he said. Why did he had this weird and painful feeling in his guts? He was afraid, but didn't know why. "I'm sure there were two of them," Arthur continued. "What if it was Merlin?"

"What do you mean?" Gwaine exclaimed, worry in his eyes.

Arthur shrugged, a frown on his face. "I'm not sure. But I have this... this feeling."

He looked at the stairs and turned to his friends.

"Let's go up."

They didn't question the king. They just followed him. They knew when it was about Merlin, there was little to do. Arthur was as a madman as Morgana had been all day about this sorceress she was purchasing. Merlin was gone and Arthur would find him, be it life or death. They all knew Merlin was more than a servant, more than what the knights were to Arthur.

Upstairs they found nothing, and Arthur almost dropped to his knees and grabbed his head out of frustration. But at that moment he saw it. The sword. The sword that was vaguely familiar. Again, he frowned, and worry worked its way up to his throat as he noticed blood on the blade. _Lots_ of blood.

"That's Merlin's!" Gwaine shouted, as he ran to the object, laying on the floor. "This is Merlin's sword!"

"What?" Arthur said, panic taking its rightful place in his chest, rising to the point where his heart began to race. "Are you sure?"

"Yes! Yes I am!" Gwaine continued, his voice going up. "I'm sure of it!"

"It is Merlin's sword," said Mordred shyly as he stepped in the dim light of the moon ray. Arthur looked at him, having almost forgot about the youngest knight, having been too upset about finding Merlin.

"But what's it doing there?!" Percival asked, stepping further in the room.

"I told you!" Arthur said. "He's here!"

"There's no one there," Leon stepped in, his voice calmer than his friend's but nonetheless we could feel the panic he was trying to shut down. "We should calm down and think. The sword was probably robbed from him. Clearly there's no one there. Morgana was here moments ago, she would have f..."

Arthur's blood went cold for a moment. But then reality came to him.

"No," he muttered. "No, Morgana and her men were carrying one body when they left, remember?"

He turned around and looked. It was too dark to see, and it seemed as if the sword, somehow, found a way to shine, to gleam in the darkness, as if gloating. Arthur's jaw and fists tightened.

"Merlin's still here. He's close. He has to be!"

"Sire..." Leon started, but Arthur was already running to a far corner.

"Is there way to the rooftop?" he wondered out loud.

Gwaine was close behind him. The remaining of the knights soon followed as well.

_By blood and by mean, I follow your lead_

Arthur was panicking now. He was climbing up the stairs desperately, like he was running for his life. He couldn't think about anything else since he'd seen this damn sword dirty with blood. What if it was Merlin's blood? It would mean that his friend had been pierced through. The blood was high on the blade... Arthur was sick thinking that Merlin could be injured. And just what would he have been doing with the sorceress?

He couldn't lose Merlin. Losing battles, he could bear. Losing knights, he would find it hard but that was the price to pay to protect a city such as Camelot. Losing Guinevere, he would be broken forever. But losing Merlin was losing himself. Losing everything that he was, has ever been and would ever be. He couldn't lose Merlin. Never. Never. Never. Never. Not Merlin. Just not him.

He kept repeating this mantra in his head as he ran to the rooftop, afraid of what he would find there. He didn't care about the sorceress or what she'd been doing with Merlin. He didn't care about what happened. He needed to find him. To find him _alive_.

_By blood and by mean, I fall when you leave_

For everything he had face. The questing beast, the evil sorcerers, Cenred, Morgause, Morgana, the dorocha, everything... He had done it with Merlin at his side. Without him, it would feel empty. Without him, it just wouldn't feel right. Maybe he was the "greatest king this land had ever known", as Merlin often said to him the last few years, but without the stupid servant, Arthur knew he would feel like a lost child, he would feel weak and useless and scared — and he had already felt that way, that time when the boy was separated from him in the Valley of the Fallen Kings, when Arthur thought for a whole day that he had lost Merlin forever.

He didn't need to remember that to know he wouldn't be able to rule Camelot, to be the king the people needed and deserved, no matter how great and strong Guinevere was as the Queen. She just wasn't Merlin.

_So tell me when you hear me falling_

He wasn't prepared for what he saw on the rooftop. Merlin was there, as he thought he would be. But the man was laying flat on his back, and a large puddle of blood was surrounding his thin body. His face was white as a corpse, the color completely drained from his slightly parted lips. He was still. Too still. His hand was on his side, bloody like the rest of his red tunic, darkened by it. And his eyes were closed.

He was beautiful, Arthur thought. Beautiful like this. But the moment had nothing beautiful. It was cold and dark outside, the only light coming from the moon, illuminating the man with a pale shade, making him look like a ghost.

_There's a possibility, it wouldn't show..._

Arthur ran to him and dropped to his knees. His heart was beating so fast, he feared it would jump out of his chest. The knights rushed to them, but none dared lean down to touch the unconscious servant.

Arthur forgot about each one of them. The thought of Merlin only was keeping him moving and breathing. He took one of his hand, shivering with fear at how cold it felt, and quickly, as calmly as he could manage, moved his fingers on throat.

It was slow. But it was there. And Arthur clung to it. He held onto it because it was the only thing he could do not to fall to pieces.

"Merlin?" he shouted. "Merlin, come on!"

He gently put his hands on the man's shoulders, and shook him.

"Merlin! Please, just. Open your eyes. Do you hear me?"

He was moments away from crying. He could feel the itching of the tears slowly beginning to form in his eyes. Merlin shouldn't be so still. He should be moving around, talking rubbish as usual, smiling like the hopeless idiot he was, and laughing at him, calling him a clotpole or whatever other words he would invent to insult him.

He shook him again, rougher this time.

"You bloody idiot! Wake up at once! This is your king's order!"

"Sire."

_There's a possibility..._

"Merlin!"

_All I'm gon' get is gone with your step..._

He felt the tears running down his cheeks. He felt them when Leon sat beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Sire, we must see to his wound!"

"Is he breathing?" Gwaine asked, alarmed.

"He is," Arthur muttered, his voice hoarse, his eyes never parting from Merlin's unmoving form. "But only just."

"Then there's hope!" the knight continued. "We must take him to Gaius!" Percival added.

Arthur looked as Leon lifted Merlin's tunic, taking his pale hand out of the way. He looked at the wound, and without a doubt saw that it had been caused by an arrow.

"It's deep, but at least it doesn't seem to be infected just yet," Leon whispered. "We must, indeed, take him to Gaius. And quickly, or he won't make it."

Arthur, even though he was the king and therefore should be the one to order, nodded like an obedient child. He leaned down and put his arms underneath Merlin's knees while the other went behind his back. But as he started lifting him up, Merlin made a soft sound, and soon after he jumped in Arthur's arms and groaned. Arthur's eyes widened as he put him back down.

"Merlin, it's alright, it's okay. I'm here! Hush!"

"Arthur..." was the low whisper that came out of the servant's mouth. His eyes opened a little, but there were unfocused and lost. He was weak. Too weak to lift himself up. His head tried to, but fell down again.

"Arthur..."

"I'm right here, you bloody idiot. I thought I lost you!"

Merlin made a little smile, so small Arthur thought he'd imagine it. But nonetheless, it made him smile too. Or maybe it was the fact that Merlin had just awaken. That was a good sign. That was good. Merlin wouldn't die. Arthur was hopeful again, even though he knew the possibility that he could just fade away into the night, and not make it to morning.

"Merlin", he murmured as he leaned down. He took him in his arms again, ready to secure him against his body to carry him home. "Don't you dare go. You're not allowed to. You hear me, clotpole? You stay with me until we're back in Camelot."

He got up with the man he loved in his arms and turned to his knights. "Ready the horses!"

He wouldn't have Merlin dying on him. He would do whatever the hell he would have to do. He just couldn't lose him. Not while he had him. "You're not dying on me, Merlin," he said, then, in a low whisper, his voice barely audible against the man's temple... "There's no king of Camelot without you."

And there was no Emrys without the Once and Future King. No Merlin without Arthur. They couldn't exist separately. Couldn't live apart.

_Know that when you leave..._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it.   
> Let me know! :)


End file.
